Moments Say So Much
by Evadne
Summary: The Fellowship sometimes has some trouble getting along
1. Gandalf Bitch Slaps Saruman

Gandalf Bitch-Slaps Saruman

Gandalf lounged lazily at the top of Orthanc, working on his tan and seething about Saruman.  But mostly just seething.  Really, there was little else to do.  

Stupid Saruman, Gandalf thought.  Stupid tower forged by the Men of Númenor.  Stupid Ring.  Stupid Eagles he asked to meet him here, but still hadn't arrived.  Stupid Radagast.  Oh, it probably wasn't really Radagast's fault, but if the man had just spent a little less time talking with birds, and little more time taking good minutes at Wizard meetings like the Secretary is supposed to, maybe someone would have noticed that Saruman had become evil…Stupid Saruman and his stupid, stupid color change.  Saruman of Many Colors.  Doesn't he realize he looks like got in a fight with a paint truck and lost?  Oh, but he loves his coat of many colors.  It was red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and…ARGH!  He was singing that song again!

*Click* Gandalf looked up blurrily as Saruman arrived at the top of Orthanc.  Saruman swished out imperiously while an evil-eyed Orc (as if there were any kind-eyed Orcs) held the door for him.  "I shall not be long," said Saruman.

"Do you ever get tired of taunting me?" asked Gandalf.

"Have you reconsidered my generous offer, Gandalf the Grey?"

"Huh?  Oh, you mean the one where you and I align with Sauron, take the Ring from him and rule Middle Earth without somehow becoming incarnations of evil ourselves?  No."

"It is unwise for the Wise to disagree."

"It is also unwise for the Wise to hold each other captive, but you seem to be ignoring that just fine."

"Gandalf, I am only looking for the best interests of Middle Earth.  It is not right for a single person to hold the Ring.  Such power should be distributed amongst those with the ability to rule."

"I guess this means you're not cutting Radagast in on the deal."

Off in the distance, Gandalf saw a dark speck rising and falling on the wind.  Hmmm…were the Eagles coming?

"Gandalf, I have lived many Ages, walked many miles beside the trees and rivers, heard many tales of Elves and Men…"

Oh, here we go, thought Gandalf.  Another speech.  Gandalf simply watched the dark speck come closer and closer to Isengard.  Yes, it was an Eagle.  Gwaihir the Windlord, if his eyes were not mistaken.  And about bloody time too.

"…and I think I've come up with a fiscally responsible plan for the deforestation of Fangorn…" droned Saruman, completely oblivious to the fact he was about to lose his audience.

The speck was now a fully formed Eagle, and circling beyond Saruman's range of vision.

"Saruman," interrupted Gandalf, "I really have only one thing to tell you.  You could never get the Ring away from Sauron.  He is one tight fisted SOB."

Gandalf leapt from the tower, and free fell.  Damn, he thought, where's that Eagle?

"There is but one Lord of the Ring," shouted Gandalf on his way down, "and he does not share power!"

Gwaihir swooped down below Gandalf, saving him from a messy and pretty embarrassing death at the foot of Orthanc.  "Nice catch," complimented Gandalf.

"I'm going to turn my meter on now," replied Gwaihir, "and there'll be an extra charge since I had to come all the way out to Isengard."

Cheapskate, thought Gandalf.

Saruman was left at the top of Orthanc with his mouth hanging open.  Then, with a pout and a huff, stormed his way back to where the Orc had been waiting.

"Oh man," said the Orc, "I think you just got bitch-slapped."  Saruman just grunted.

"Metaphorically, I mean," added the Orc.

"I got it!" snapped Saruman.


	2. Frodo Finds the Ring Annoying

Frodo Finds the Ring Annoying

            "Bring out the Ring Frodo!" said Gandalf solemnly.  "The time has come.  Hold it up, and then Boromir will understand the remainder of his riddle."

            Frodo laid the Ring on the table, at once loath to release it, and yet glad the matter was now out of his hands.  Immediately, the Ring began to protest.

            "Frodo Baggins," whispered the Ring directly into his mind, "you come right back here and pick me up.  You hear, young man?"

            Just ignore it, thought Frodo.

            "Ignore me how?  I'm in your head, genius.  Now come back here and get me.  All these creepy people are staring at me."

            "The Ring must be destroyed!" shouted Elrond, completely oblivious to the Ring's attempt to get back in Frodo's possession.

            "And now they want me dead!" cried the Ring.  "You don't want that, do you?"

            Actually, thought Frodo, that would be nice.

            "How mean!  Has our time together meant nothing to you then?"

            Frodo noticed a brief squabble had broken out in the Council.  "Gondor has no king," declared the slightly scary human, Boromir, if Frodo's memory served.  "Gondor needs no king."

            "'Gondor needs no king,'" mocked the Ring.  "C'mon, Frodo.  Don't tell me you want me to end up in this dink's hands?"

            I am not talking to you, thought Frodo.

            "I'll corrupt your friends if you don't.  You can watch them turn slowly to darkness.  I can do that, you know.  I promise power, and then feed on their pathetic souls.  I'll start with that friend of yours…was it Sam?  Yes, I'll promise him…"

            All the land he can possibly garden? thought Frodo contemptuously.

            "…shut up," said the Ring.  "Okay, how about the heir of Isildur then?  He should be easy enough to corrupt.  I did get Isildur, after all.  And all I had to promise him was dominion over the world of Men.  And all the corn chips he could eat.  Oh, and that he didn't have to wear that ridiculous crown of Gondor.  I did mange to follow on _that_ promise, I did."

            You can't corrupt Strider, thought Frodo confidently.

            "Gandalf…"

            Frodo just laughed.

            "…"

            Gotcha, thought Frodo.  There's nothing left to say.

            "I'll sing."

            What? thought Frodo, believing he must have misheard.

            "You heard me.  Pick me up again, or I'll sing."

            You've got to be kidding me, thought Frodo.

            "You see, I've been working on this musical.  I think I'll get it produced when I rule over all of Middle Earth.  I haven't come up with a title yet.  I've been thinking 'The Fourth Age.'  We are getting to the forth age, right?  Or is it the third?  But that title may be a little mundane."

            Frodo was so bewildered he couldn't even think.

            "But I've been working on the music."  The Ring began to sing, "_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul_…"

            Frodo sat in stunned silence.

            "I'll keep going if you don't do anything.  _Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh_…"

            I can't take this, thought Frodo.  This ridiculous.

            "_…burzum-ishi krimpatul_!"

            "Shut up!" shouted Frodo.  "Shut up!  Stupid Ring!  If you don't knock it off, I'll drop you in a volcano!"

            "Excellent!" said Elrond.  "Frodo has volunteered to take the Ring.  Who will go with him?"

            "What?" asked Frodo.


	3. Boromir Surprises No One

Boromir Surprises No One

            Boromir stood solemnly before the Fellowship, his eyes full of sorrow and regret.

            "Boromir," spoke Aragorn, "you seem troubled.  Have you had some disturbing intelligence of Gondor?"

            "I have looked deep into my heart," replied Boromir, "and there is something I feel I must tell you."

            "Please speak," said Frodo.  "If we can ease your mind in any way, we should be glad to do it."

            "I feel," started Boromir gravely, "that I am a danger to the Fellowship."

            "Oh," said Gandalf, after a brief pause.  "Is that all?"

            "Ummm…" said Boromir, slightly surprised at the Wizard's off-hand response.  "Yes.  I feel my attraction to the Ring may overwhelm me…"

            "Yes, well," said Legolas with a dismissing gesture.  "We already knew that."

            "You did?"

            "Of course we did," said Sam, putting his two cents in.  "Right from the start I said to myself, 'Sam, that man is a danger.  Best watch him.'"

            "But…my desire may cause me to harm someone.  Especially Frodo."

            "I've thought about that," replied Frodo, "and I've prepared a number of escape scenarios, should the need arise."

            "But…but…I can't believe you all knew."

            "Oh, long ago," said Legolas with a laugh.

            "Even we knew," said Pippin, gesturing to himself and Merry.

            "And that's saying something," Merry tacked on.

            "How?  How?" asked a bewildered Boromir.

            "Oh, it was so obvious," said Pippin.

            "I mean," started Gandalf, "the sly glances…"

            "…the creeping around while we're sleeping…" added Aragorn.

            "…the incessant mumbling of 'I must have the Ring.  I must have the Ring,'" continued Frodo.

            "And those secret meetings with Gollum!" cried Sam.  "Shame on you!"

            "So, everyone knew?" asked a very putout Boromir.

            "Of course, you ninny!" said Merry.

            "Then why didn't anyone tell me!?" shouted Boromir.


	4. Gimli Makes a Dubious Decision

Gimli Makes a Dubious Decision

            "Yes, the mind tricks are vaguely sinister, but you must admit a certain cleverness in them," said Gimli.

            "Yes.  Of course," said Legolas, who would have much rather been concentrating on steering the boat, or watching the shore, or anything other than Gimli's conversation, really.

            "And was her hair not the fairest golden color you have ever seen?"

            _Hurrrrrr_, thought Legolas, but his mouth said, "Uh-huh."

            "You know, lad, I did not realize Elves could be so interesting until I laid eyes on Lady Galadriel."

            "Well," said Legolas, "you learn something new every day."  _Did I just get called "lad?"_  _I must be at least thousands of years older than him._

"Ah, it is such a lovely day, is it not?  Reminds me of her..."

            _That's it,_ thought Legolas.  _Next time we stop, I'm switching with Boromir.  Even listening to Merry and Pippin jabber on about apples has got to be better than this._

            "…and yet, I was glad to do one small thing for her.  Oh, that I could be worthy in her…"

            "Wait," interrupted Legolas, gladly cutting off Gimli before he went into raptures again, "what did you do for her?"

            "Nothing much.  I just left her a small token of my esteem."

            "Which was…?"

* * * *

            Galadriel was doing her damnedest to avoid rolling her eyes at her husband, who was _still_ picking at his roasted bird.  "It was very nice to see Legolas again," said Celeborn, desperately trying to make small talk.

            Galadriel nodded her head absently, and Celeborn took this as a sign he should continue.  "Maybe we should invite some of the Mirkwood Elves down for the summer months?"

            "Providing, of course, darling, that there will continue to be summer months.  Or any months at all."

            "I was attempting to be positive, my dear."

            "Very well, if by some miracle the world is not overrun by darkness and evil by next summer, we will invite the Mirkwood Elves to stay with us.  In fact, why don't we hold a party?  We can invite Elrond and all the good wizards we can find as well.  Gandalf can make those spinach quiches you're always raving about."

            "There's no need to be cruel, Galadriel.  Besides, we both know Gandalf is no longer among the living."

            Galadriel shot her husband a withering glance and said, "If you think Gandalf would let himself die after a single battle in the shadows, then you've obviously never played squash with him.  Regardless, I refuse to believe Gandalf is dead until I behold his body.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to check my Mirror."

            Galadriel gracefully rose and left the table, avoiding Celeborn's puppy dog stare.  She idly wondered, should Celeborn meet an "unfortunate accident", if Elrond would interested in dating again.  Also providing Middle Earth survived long enough to make it worthwhile.  Which was why she figured she should check on the Fellowship.  She picked up her water pitcher (wedding gift from Saruman.  She should probably get rid of it now that he was evil), and wended her way down to the Mirror, musing all the while.

            Pity Gandalf was indisposed.  That meant Legolas was currently the oldest and wisest of the travelers.  Galadriel had to repress a derisive snort.  _Good luck there, _she thought.  At least Aragorn had some common sense, at least enough to counterbalance Boromir.  The Ringbearer would be relatively safe with Aragorn, especially since Elrond had had the good sense to send the other three decoy Hobbits along.  And then there was the Dwarf.  The creepy, stalker Dwarf who had asked for her hair.  

            Galadriel sighed, and poured the water into her Mirror. She probably shouldn't have given her hair to the Dwarf.  But it would have been rude to refuse, for it was, after all, only hair.  Weird, nonetheless.

            It was about this moment when she realized her feet were getting wet.  "What…?" Galadriel looked around, surprised, and checked to see if her Mirror was leaking or overflowing.  She hadn't poured that much, had she?  She saw the clear water running down the sides, and peered into her Mirror, only to discover it wasn't her normal bowl.  It was flat.  It was glass.  It was…an actual mirror?  "What the…?"

* * * *

            "…and so I figured a lady as lovely as her shouldn't have to look into a wavering water mirror to view her breathtaking beauty," finished Gimli.

            Legolas looked at him, slack-jawed with horror, amazement, and no little admiration.  "You replaced her Mirror with an actual mirror?  Where did you get…?"

            "We Dwarves are master craftsmen, Elf.  You should know that by now."


	5. Pippin Does Something Entirely Appropria...

Pippin Does Something Entirely Appropriate

            "Fool of a Took!" stormed Gandalf, waving his staff around like a color guard's flag.  "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

            "I only went down to the stream to bring back some water," said Pippin, cringing back to avoid being clocked by Gandalf.  Gimli was not so quick, and was leveled by Gandalf's prodigious backhand, which he had developed playing squash with Sauron in the First Age.

            "Oh yes," growled Gandalf, stepping over Gimli's prone body, "you only went down to get some water.  All the way singing, at the top of your voice, an old fashioned Shire song!  You only alerted an entire squad of Orcs to your, and therefore our, presence, bringing us all into battle before dawn!  You have only caused injury to three of our companions!"

"Um, I only skinned my knee," offered Boromir.

"And you have gotten me angry, causing me to injure a fourth of our party!"

            "Okay," interjected Pippin, "you can't really say the last was my fault."  
            Gandalf, knowing he was right, ignored him and went on shouting, "And you didn't even bring back any water!  Now what will I boil to help me ease the injuries of our comrades!  Go down to the stream and get some water!  And keep your mouth shut!"

Pippin turned and slouched out of the clearing they were using as camp.  "And stand up straight!  Don't grumble at me, Hobbit!"  Gandalf glared after Pippin.  "I don't like the idea of him on his own.  He might do something stupid again.  Frodo!  Keep your eye on him!"

            "Don't yell at me," said Frodo, "I haven't done anything."

* * * *

            "Pippin!" called Frodo.  "Pippin?  It's only me, Frodo.  Where are you, Pippin?"

Pippin squinted down at Frodo from his perch in a tree.  He had heard Gandalf tell Frodo to follow him and was feeling a little bitter toward Frodo, even if it wasn't his cousin's fault.  Pippin decided he was just going to wait until Frodo passed by, and then sneak up on him.

            "Pippin?" cried Frodo.  "This isn't funny, Pippin."  Frodo groaned and looked around.  Where was he?  Frodo was wishing he had some more sedate relatives when a huge black shadow glided out from behind a tree.  A sharp pain ripped through his shoulder.  "Oh, no," whispered Frodo as he backed up.  He was stopped when, from behind him, two more shadows cut off his only exit.  Oh, shit, thought Frodo.

            "Sssssscore," hissed one of the shadows, gutturally.

            "The Halfling," hissed one of the other Ringwraiths, in case you hadn't guessed who they were yet.

            "I thought you were carried away in the flood," said Frodo, more to himself than to the Wraiths.

            "We were," answered the third, "but we were on our way back to Mordor and…"

            "Why are you explaining?" exploded the first.  "It's not his business!"

            "Why are we wasting time talking?" hissed the second.  "Let's just grab him and go back to Sauron.  If we have the Halfling, he won't be so mad that we lost our horses."

            "Plus, we can show up that arse Angmar," said the third, who would probably have been grinning if his face hadn't been hidden behind his cloak.  Or if he even had a face that could be seen by normal eyes.

            Frodo slowly backed himself into the base of a tree, completely unaware it was the same tree in which Pippin was currently hiding, frozen, in the branches.  Pippin's mind raced.  What could he do?  If he shouted for Aragorn or Gandalf, they would arrive too late to save Frodo.  Never mind that revealing his presence would probably get him killed as well.  But he couldn't just allow Frodo to be carried off to certain doom in Mordor!  Slowly, Pippin came to the realization that if he didn't do something now, all would be lost.  Gathering his courage, Pippin made his decision.

            And leapt from the tree, straight onto the head of the first Ringwraith.

            "AHHHHHH!  AHHHH!  Get it off!  Get it off!" shouted the Wraith.

* * * * 

            "…And I said that any club that would have Celeborn as a member wasn't worth joining," said Legolas to a mostly bored Fellowship.

            The rest of the Fellowship was jerked from a stupor at the shrill cry of what sounded like a Wraith being plagued by a small manlike Hobbit.  "A Wraith!" cried Aragorn, taking up his sword (secretly grateful he wouldn't have to listen to the petty inner workings of Elvish cliques anymore).

            "Mr. Frodo!" wailed Sam.

            "Fool!  Of!  A!  Took!" shouted Gandalf.

* * * *

            Pippin was smashed into a tree branch as the Wraith made increasing larger frantic circles in his attempt to gain some type of help.  The two other Wraiths, however, were in no position to assist him, as they were currently lying on the ground, laughing themselves silly.  Pippin tried not to retch as the Wraith spun around in a circle, trying to throw off whatever had latched on to his head.  "Run, Frodo!  Run!" shouted Pippin, for Frodo was still backed against the tree with a look of horrified amazement plastered onto his pale face.

            Of course, what Pippin hadn't realized was that Frodo was no more likely to leave a friend and family member in certain peril than he was.  Instead of running, Frodo was drawing Sting and preparing to take on the Wraith.  So everyone was pretty much back at square one.

            Luckily, Aragorn was quick when stimulated by a panicking Sam, and Gandalf was quick when he thought he had an opportunity to berate Pippin.  Both burst into the fray, swords swinging (in Aragorn's case) and violent tempers flying (in Gandalf's).  One could only imagine how quickly the Wraiths made their exit (one could only imagine because I'm not describing it.  This story is too long already).

            "Thank you, Pippin," said Frodo, trying to hold off a foaming Gandalf off his friend.

            "You mean…I did good?" asked an amazed Pippin.

            "Well!  You did well!" shouted Gandalf.  "Mind your grammar, Peregrin Took!"

(A/N: I hate EVERYTHING.)


	6. Legolas Cares Not for the Ways of Men

Legolas Cares Not for the Ways of Men

            "We can go no further now," decided Aragorn.  "It is too dark to ford the river.  Should the Hobbits lose their footing, they would surely be carried away by the current."

            "Thank goodness," breathed Merry to himself.

            "Let us make camp, then," said Boromir, "and engage ourselves in such activities as befit a troop of hearty men."

            "Shall we compose a lengthy, overly involved lyric poem addressing the tragic love of Lúthien and Beren?  Or perhaps an ode to the Moon?" asked Legolas, perking up considerably.

            "Um…" said Boromir, "I'd prefer not."

            "Boromir," said Aragorn warningly.  "This is not a conversation you want to have."

            "It's just," continued Boromir, unheedingly, "I'd rather do something more manly."

            "Manly?" replied Legolas coldly.  "Perhaps you would rather discuss the ludicrous history of Men then, comparing their various shortcomings to your own!  Feel free to discuss your topics of Men in front of me.  I certainly won't complain.  Elves care not for the ways of Men."

            "No, no.  Not 'Manly' as in 'related to the world of Men," but 'manly' as in 'masculine'.  Not that I'd expect someone like _you_ to understand such a concept," said Boromir.

            "Oh no," said Aragorn, "now you've done it."

            "Masculine!" shouted Legolas, "You think composing poetry is not masculine?  Poetry is the ultimate art form!  It takes centuries to perfect the art of arranging appropriate words in pre-defined meter and verse!  You will never know the sublime joy of completing your first perfect poetic masterpiece!"

            "You've got to be kidding me," said Boromir.

            Legolas's jaw dropped, and he started to reach for an arrow.  Sam quickly interceded, "Well, as we must camp for tonight, I would think that we should get dinner started.  Strider, would you please take Boromir into the nearby woods and collect some firewood?"

            "Yes," replied Aragorn, "I think that is an excellent idea.  Come, Idiot, I mean, Boromir."

            "Excellent job, Sam," said Frodo.  "I thought they were about to kill each other."

            "Poetry not masculine," steamed Legolas, "How can he possibly believe that?  And what does he mean that I wouldn't understand the concept of masculinity?  I am among the most masculine of Elves!"

            Frodo sighed.  He knew this conversation was a long time in coming.  "Legolas," he began, "I think it's time I told you.  Boromir thinks…how do I put this…Boromir thinks you're…a fairy."

            Legolas stared at Frodo.  "Is he blind?  I am of the noble race of Elves!  I'm hardly a fairy!  And he should be glad.  Fairies are batshit insane.  They steal children and leave completely random things in return."

            "No, no.  Not a fairy like that," cut in Pippin.  "Frodo, you can't be so gentle.  Legolas, Boromir thinks you're gay."

            "Elves are not gay!  We are serious and melancholy.  We pine for a time long gone by.  Happiness is expressed through gentle, condescending smiles, not gayness."

            "Ha!" laughed Gimli, "Silly Hobbits.  You don't understand the 'complex' workings of the Elvish mind."  And with that, Gimli tugged Legolas down to his height and whispered in his ear.  

Legolas turned bright red and looked frantically at the other members of the Fellowship.  "You mean…Boromir thinks that I…I…"

"Care for the ways of men," finished Frodo, matter-of-factly.

* * * *

            Aragorn glared at Boromir as the two men gathered fallen branches.  Boromir had the good sense to look slightly ashamed, but Aragorn was not mollified.  "Boromir, I told you Elves were sensitive."

            "I know, but for a species that claims not to care what Men do, the Elves seem to interfere a great deal.  And never when they should.  I mean, they were _alive_ at the end of the last War of the Ring.  Maybe if they actually talked to Men every once and awhile, those things that shouldn't have been lost, wouldn't have been!"  Boromir's rant was interrupted by a high-pitched, enraged scream.

            "Was that a woman?" asked a bewildered Boromir.

            The anger tinted scream turned into a voice: "I'll give you a list!  A list of all the girls I've loved before!  What about me could POSSIBLY make him think that?!"

            "I'm going to sleep out here tonight," said Boromir, turning to Aragorn.  "If that's okay with you."


End file.
